


that's okay, man, 'cause i like the abuse

by HeartofDarkness123



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bang Chan-centric, Body Worship, Bottom Bang Chan, Dom Kim Seungmin, Figging, Hurt/Comfort, Lingerie, M/M, Plotty, Rimming, Spanking, Submissive Bang Chan, Top Kim Seungmin, Unhealthy Relationships, this is not as porny as the tag proportions make it seem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartofDarkness123/pseuds/HeartofDarkness123
Summary: Chan loves Seungmin. He can be difficult to be around, but it's always worth it. The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right? If that's true, Chan must be the best boyfriend ever.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Han Jisung | Han & Seo Changbin, Bang Chan & Yang Jeongin | I.N, Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73
Collections: Be Kind: Rewind! | SKZ 90s Fic Fest





	that's okay, man, 'cause i like the abuse

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction. I do not condone the relationship dynamics in the fic, and the original song is pretty explicit about the relationship being unhealthy. I do not condone the way Seungmin treats Chan in the BDSM scenes either, and this should not be taken as educational. Always stop when safe words are used, and establish and respect each other’s boundaries. Furthermore, I do not presume that any of the people in this fic are like this in real life. These are purely characters. I do not think Seungmin is an abuser, or that Hyunjin and Minho are enablers. If you are in this fic, please press back, for the sake of both of us.
> 
> My song prompt: [Self Esteem by The Offspring](https://open.spotify.com/track/6EsBn1Md8C5YdbCzvwvZq8?si=TCzOCD6sQpi7sF3ekXzLjQ).

The instant they were inside, Seungmin slammed Chan into the door they’d just stumbled inside. Chan gasped, his shoulders knocking painfully into the frame. Seungmin was on his mouth in an instant, his teeth roughly tugging on the fake lip ring he’d picked out. “God,” Seungmin groaned, “you’re so fucking sexy.” Chan squirmed in place. The lip ring still pinched, even if it wasn’t a real piercing, and the light flares of pain made his dick twitch in his tight leather pants. Seungmin’s undivided attention was a rare pleasure these days, and Chan preened under his adoration. He arched up into Seungmin’s touch, whining at the pressure when Seungmin pushed his thigh between Chan’s. He closed his eyes, relishing in the sensations.

He was then startled by a sharp flash of pain as Seungmin tugged on the chain connecting his lip ring and earring. The pressure pulled on his ear and sent a bolt of panic through him. Chan’s eyes shot open, and he tried to reach for Seungmin. Seungmin just shushed him and pinned his wrists against the door. “I prepared a surprise for you,” he said, grinning. He let go of Chan abruptly, leaving him to blink dazedly at his disappearing form. Chan didn’t know what to make of Seungmin’s declaration. His heart felt warm at the thought of Seungmin thinking of him and planning something for him, but his taste in surprises was… volatile, to say the least. 

“Wait in the bedroom!” Seungmin yelled. Was he opening the fridge? Chan had no idea what Seungmin had planned, but he trotted obediently towards the bedroom. Once he was inside, he hesitated. Did Seungmin want him to undress? He hadn’t specified. It was difficult to read his whims: one night he’d gotten mad at Chan’s “presumptuousness,” and then the next night he’d chastised Chan’s “lack of foresight.” Seungmin seemed in a good mood though, so he started working the leather pants on. They were sticky with sweat, and Chan cringed at the unpleasant sounds they made, peeling off of his thighs. The sleeveless top was much easier, and he left it folded up on the table. Then Chan settled onto the bed, wondering what Seungmin was up to. There wasn’t a lot of sound drifting up, so he could only speculate what Seungmin had planned for him.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. Seungmin burst in, grinning like a puppy. It reminded Chan of when he’d first met Seungmin, aggressively and intensely playful.. It made Chan smile fondly. It was moments like these that made braving Seungmin’s temper worth it, when all of his bright, sunny attention was focused on him. He was holding his hands behind his back, evidently holding Chan’s surprise. “Roll over, elbows and knees,” Seungmin directed, bouncing from excitement. 

Chan laughed and complied, shuffling quietly to stabilize himself. “Okay!” Seungmin announced, clapping. “Whatever you do, don’t look!” Chan squirmed impatiently, resting his face on his forearms as he waited for Seungmin to do  _ anything. _ Happy Seungmin was becoming less and less common, and he was eager to know what had him so excited. 

Seungmin’s first blow startled a yelp out of him. “Fuck!” he cried, shifting away. It wasn’t truly painful, sending pleasant tingles racing up his spine, but he hadn’t been prepared, his body lax and unresisting. 

Seungmin made a displeased tsk, grabbing Chan by the hips and pulling him back bodily. “Attention!” he snapped, much icier than the warm cheer from earlier. 

Chan made a frightened noise, scrambling to steady himself again. “One,” he said shakily, squaring himself to take another blow. The absolute last thing he wanted was to disappoint Seungmin. He got angry when that happened, and his ass throbbed from the phantom memory of it. 

“There we go,” Seungmin said, pleased. “I trained you well, didn’t I?” His tone was heavy and expectant, almost to a narcissistic degree. Seungmin was always confident, if nothing else. He expected everyone, including Chan, to go along with what he thought. Not out of an inflated sense of self, but because he thought he was simply correct. He gave Chan another firm slap on the other cheek to match the first one, eliciting a satisfied hum. To Chan, his unerring stubbornness made him ideal. Seungmin’s dominance felt like a bull charging in head-first: reckless, but bowled you over and left you breathless. 

“Two! Yes sir,” Chan panted, struggling not to push back into Seungmin’s touch. It was so addicting, the way he would knead and squeeze appreciatively at his ass while Chan blushed and hid his face, only to pull back and deliver swats just off rhythm enough to genuinely surprise him. “I’ll be good, I promise sir.” 

Chan whimpered at the next spank: a thick, heavy impact, unlike the previous ones. It seemed Seungmin wasn’t in the mood for warm up. Each new smack left him clenching instinctively to get away from the shock. It took a bit of time for the heat to build up in his ass, but he was feeling it now. His skin burned under Seungmin’s touch, and he was sure his ass was starting to get pink by now. “Six!” 

Chan’s mind had started to go a little fuzzy around the edges by the tenth firm smack, and it was only by sheer force of will that he kept counting. “Thirteen,” he slurred, too loose to resist anymore. His ass was on fire now, a constant spot of sensation in the serene sea of his mind. It throbbed dully and made him feel hyper aware of his pulse, steadily thumping along. He was radiating heat now, and the rest of his body almost felt cold in comparison. 

Chan was abruptly startled out of his reverie when Seungmin started accelerating, raining slaps down on both cheeks. Each new spank on the sore, hot, muscle sent fresh fire up his veins. It was almost too fast for him to keep up with, and Chan’s heart thudded nervously in his chest. 24 or 25? Seungmin usually preferred to keep things even, but he also liked to mess with him. “25?” he squeaked. 

Seungmin gave him one last powerful strike, right over his hole. “Wrong!” he said gleefully, as Chan wailed and collapsed. It burned like nothing else had before, and he couldn’t help the tears spilling over. Chan instinctively clenched his legs shut, curling into himself. When the pain finally faded enough for his ears to stop ringing, Chan could hear Seungmin walking around behind him. “What am I wearing?” he asked, conspiratorial. 

Chan knew he was being set up. He wasn’t completely blind to Seungmin’s twisted machinations. “The dog costume?” he suggested tentatively. It didn’t feel right, but he didn’t want to say he didn’t know. Seungmin expected an answer. He didn’t dare turn around to see what Seungmin was doing. He wouldn’t be able to take the disappointed look, even if he knew it was intentional.

“Seems like you’re two for two on being fucking WRONG,” Seungmin said smugly. The bed dipped from his weight again, and his cold, wet hands landed on his sore ass. Chan yelped. The contact made his bruises ache. The cold, damp spots his hands left behind certainly felt nice though. Was Seungmin wearing gloves? His skin was rubbery against his sensitive ass. Chan gathered his shaky arms underneath him and twisted his head around to check.

“Don’t look!” Seungmin snapped, slapping him full force across his right ass cheek. Chan screamed, and his arms buckled, face collapsing into the bedsheets. This one burned like none of the prior strikes had, landing right on top of a sore spot. He’d forgotten that Seungmin wanted this to be a surprise, with the way his focus had narrowed down solely to the sting trapped under his skin and the heat curling in his veins. His upper body felt like it didn’t exist, floating along in the sea of pain engulfing his ass. Chan whimpered, fighting the urge to squirm away from the burn. He’d already disappointed Seungmin by forgetting, and his heart clenched at that thought. He didn’t want to upset him any further. 

“Good boy.” Seungmin sounded pleased, and his touch was soothing as he pulled Chan’s bruised cheeks apart to expose his hole. Chan whined, hiding his face in his arms. Even when they’d done this multiple times already, he was mortified. Seungmin whistled approvingly. Chan’s cheeks warmed further at that, but he was glad Seungmin wasn’t mad at him. Emboldened, Chan spread his thighs farther and arched his back to push his ass up into Seungmin’s touch and let out a low moan. Any contact stung, but in such a mild form, it sat on the perfect border of pleasure and pain.

Seungmin snorted derisively at that. “God, you’re so needy,” he sneered, slapping him again. It hurt, of course, but not as much as the last one had. “You need me to fuck you so bad, don’t you? You feel so empty and pathetic without my cock filling you up.” 

Chan nodded mindlessly, drool sliding out of the corner of his mouth. He would take anything Seungmin gave him if it meant Seungmin was satisfied. There was a rustling behind him that he couldn’t parse, and then the cold sensation of lube pouring onto his hole. Chan flinched, letting out a yelp of surprise. Then Seungmin pushed two fingers in, and Chan cringed, whining weakly. Seungmin hadn’t touched him in days, and his hole still burned from the strike earlier. The lingering sting combined with the slightly-too-much stretch mixed until his brain couldn’t distinguish the two from the pleasure of Seungmin’s fingers pushing in relentlessly, rubbing along his walls. He took no care, ignoring Chan’s prostate in favor of stretching him out. It was clinical and detached, and Chan chewed on his lip anxiously, wondering what Seungmin had planned. 

“Okay,” Seungmin announced, removing his fingers. “Stay still, alright?” His tone was carefully neutral, revealing nothing, but Chan could hear the eager glint in his eye, barely suppressed in his excitement. Seungmin pushed something cold and blunt into his hole, and Chan felt his nervous thoughts grind to a halt.. It didn’t feel like a plug, but it was shaped like one. What…?

Then Seungmin’s hand came down with a reverberating crack, and Chan clenched around the intrusion. “You’ve been forgetting to count,” Seungmin gloated, as the unholy sting finally set in. Chan wailed. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t help clenching again, but it only made the horrible stinging worse. His legs trembled underneath him, and it was only Seungmin’s firm grip on his waist that kept him upright. His other hand came down in a fire of spanks, sending zaps of pain with each strike. His ass was already sore, and each hit rubbed him raw. Chan was going to lose his mind. Each strike made him clench, no matter how hard he tried to resist. When he did, the thing inside him burned with a greater intensity, wiping any thoughts from his mind. 

“Please!” Chan cried, feeling his legs finally give out. “Please stop!” He knew he was supposed to count, but each slap sent a fresh wave of all-consuming pleasure-pain through his mind, wiping any thoughts away instantly. He couldn’t remember how many spanks he’d gone through. He couldn’t think about anything except how the pain had choked out any of the pleasure, and it just hurt now. It was too much, and his nerves were fried. “Red!” he choked, desperately trying to scramble away from Seungmin’s overbearing touch.

Seungmin scoffed, low and dark. He grabbed Chan by the ankle, preventing him from running away. “I don’t think so,” he said calmly, aiming a strike at his sit spot. 

Chan felt his vision go red, and his gasp was silent from the shock. It was almost like he was disconnecting from his body. Everything hurt so bad he couldn’t process it anymore. He could distantly hear someone sobbing, coughing out pleas to stop, and Seungmin’s rhythmic strikes, unrelenting and constant. Each sound got fuzzier, and Chan let his eyes close, falling into the dark sea of unconsciousness. 

* * *

Chan woke up in his own bedroom. He rolled over, trying to see what he was wearing, because it certainly wasn’t last night’s costume. The ensuing wave of all-consuming pain sent him flopping back onto his stomach, gasping. He was just glad it was Saturday today. He had the weekend to get better. 

Chan chewed on his lip, thinking. His muscles were screaming at him with stiffness after lying so still for so long. He wished Seungmin had at least bothered to rub arnica cream on his ass, if he’d gone through the effort of dressing Chan and dumping him at his own house. He needed to ice the bruise, but he didn’t look forward to getting to the freezer. Besides his ass, his throat ached, no doubt from screaming too much last night.

Chan gritted his teeth, reaching for the nightstand to support himself. Just shifting like that sent waves of fiery pain from his backside, and his vision went blurry from the tears welling up. Every movement grated on the edge of too much. Normally, Chan would just grin and bear it, but he honestly didn’t think he could make it to the freezer without collapsing. Thankfully, his phone was just within his grasp, lying on the nightstand. Seungmin lacked in many ways, but the limited degree of foresight needed to take his phone out of his pants before removing them was not one of those, apparently. 

Chan opened his contacts list, despairing at how short it was. His first thought was Jeongin, but he didn’t want to bother him. Jeongin was the youngest. He was meant to take care of him, not burden him with his own struggles and incompetencies. His next thought was either Jisung or Changbin. They were always dependable, and the three of them had been friends for years. He felt safest telling them his ugliest thoughts and being vulnerable with them. That made Chan shift uncomfortably, cringing at the flare of pain. When he compared the three of them, Changbin and Jisung seemed like a much more logical choice. So why had he thought of Jeongin first? The train of thought was deeply discomfiting, and Chan busied himself by texting Changbin and Jisung in their group chat. A simple “come over” would do. He didn’t want to explain himself over text, and the two of them had never let him down when he truly needed it.

Time slowed to a crawl while Chan waited for them, trying to stay still so as not to aggravate his sore ass. He wanted to take off his boxers and shorts to relieve the ache where the fabric touched his skin, but moving hurt worse, and it would make it easier if Changbin and Jisung didn’t walk in on him half-naked. 

He reached for the phone again, impulsively checking his texts with Seungmin. Absolutely nothing. Chan didn’t know why his heart sank at the sight. He hadn’t expected anything else, but the read receipt on his last message yesterday morning mocked him anyway.

Fortunately, the sound of the door banging open distracted him. It seemed Changbin and Jisung had arrived. “Bedroom!” he yelled. Or at least, tried to. His voice was shot to hell, more of a rasp coming out than a proper shout, and his sore throat immediately burned from the exertion. Chan coughed, and the sound was wet and grating. It only made his throat worse. He reached for his phone again and quickly typed out “inside bedroom.” 

Chan heard the ping of Jisung’s loud ass phone going off, and their footsteps following soon after. He dreaded their inevitable blow up. He really wanted to keep sleeping, the beginning of a headache forming, and hopefully by the time he woke up, his body would hurt less. His bedroom door banged open and Chan braced himself, turning to face the two of them.

“What’s wrong??” Jisung shrieked, rushing forward to pat all over Chan.

Chan hurriedly shoved him away before he could reach his ass, cringing at the movement. “Relax,” he snapped, but he was undermined by the lack of volume and the thick rasp in his voice. 

Jisung opened his mouth, no doubt ready to launch into another concerned spiel, but Changbin stepped forward, thankfully. “Why don’t you go brew Chan some tea?” he suggested, unsubtly shoving Jisung out the door. “Like, honey and lemon or something, for his throat.” Jisung’s protested all the way out, but his footsteps disappeared towards the kitchen nonetheless. Hopefully he wouldn’t destroy his kitchen looking for the honey. Chan didn’t think he had lemons around.

Changbin was much more lowkey, but his expression was thunderous now that Jisung was out of the way. Chan winced. Changbin was always too smart for his own good. “What happened?” Changbin demanded, low and flat. 

“I forgot to ice my ass yesterday night after falling,” Chan said, meeting Changbin’s eyes. Avoiding eye contact would only make him suspicious. Changbin didn’t know anything about spanking, so surely he’d buy the timeline? Besides, it was only a half-lie, technically. He  _ had  _ neglected to ice the sore spots, and he didn’t want to gross Changbin out by oversharing! 

Unfortunately, Changbin clearly wasn’t buying it. “Sure,” he said flatly. “You fell. It had absolutely nothing to do with Seungmin texting you last night.” Chan flinched at that. He thought he’d been pretty inconspicuous. He knew neither Changbin nor Jisung liked Seungmin, after all. He ducked his head down, hiding from Changbin’s unimpressed glare.

Changbin just sighed, wearily, and Chan heard him walk away to meet Jisung. He was clearly unhappy, but Chan was just grateful he hadn’t pushed the issue. Talking about Seungmin made Changbin upset and Jisung mad, and it made Chan feel like he was being pulled thin between two opposing forces: a jealous lover and disappointed friends. 

Changbin set down a large steaming cup, the scent of honey wafting off of it. “Jisung is making lunch,” he said in a guarded tone. “Just sandwiches, so he can’t fuck it up. Hopefully.” 

Chan snorted at that. “Jisung will always find a way to fuck it up,” he laughed. It felt like razor blades pushing past his throat. 

Changbin scowled at the sound of his voice. “Don’t talk,” he commanded, pushing the cup towards Chan. “I brought some ice too, and I found the arnica cream and neosporin in your bathroom.” 

The comment spoke volumes, and Chan flinched. Was he simply too obvious, or Changbin too observant? He reached for the cup, breathing in the warm honey scent as he sipped at the water. It did make his throat feel less raw, and his limbs less cold.

“Will you let me take care of you?” 

Changbin’s voice startled him, and Chan nearly dropped the cup. “What?”

Changbin scowled. “I know you two do freaky shit,” he grumbled. “This is the 3rd time this has happened. You realize that right? You’re not subtle when you wince after sitting down the day after visiting Seungmin. He  _ should _ be giving you medical care after, but it’s easier with a second person.”

Chan’s ears were on fire, if not his entire face, he was sure of it. If Changbin had noticed, who else had? He buried his face in his pillow. If it had been any other time, he would have screeched and kicked Changbin out instantly, but today, he relented. “Okay,” he mumbled into the pillow. 

Changbin sighed, clearly relieved. “I’m going to take your pants and boxers off, okay?” Chan nodded, still hiding his face in the pillow. He lifted his hips up to help, feeling his ears flame up further. He yelped when Changbin put the bag of ice straight on to his ass.

“Get a towel!” Chan complained, smiling privately at Changbin’s fluster. Nonetheless, he obeyed, and Chan sighed in relief at the muted cold. The towel grated slightly, but the ice pack soothed the inflamed skin.

“Drink your water before it gets cold,” Changbin scolded. 

Chan rolled his eyes. The drink was a distraction, if nothing else. The atmosphere was painfully awkward. Something was clearly occupying Changbin’s mind, and Chan really didn’t want to be discussing his bruised ass with his best friend of all people. Chan went to take another drink, frowning at the now-empty cup. He peeked back at Changbin. He was scrolling on his phone, lips pursed at something.

“What’re you reading?” Chan asked, resting on an elbow. 

Changbin startled visibly. “Oh, uh, just how long I should leave the ice on.” 

Chan’s heart warmed. As painful as this was, he was nothing but grateful for his friends. Changbin, for the close company and for showing he cared, and Jisung, for coming on such short notice. “10-20 minutes,” he supplied helpfully. “Then the cream, and then ice it more, probably.” Chan’s throat still felt and sounded like death, but the hot drink had eased the gravel in it and he no longer felt like he was gargling sand constantly. 

Changbin nodded dutifully, setting a timer. He hesitated, clearly working up the courage to say something.

Chan sighed, looking down at his body. The exposed skin was swollen and bright red. He didn’t like talking about Seungmin with other people, but he owed it to Changbin to try, after today. “You want to ask about Seungmin, don’t you?” Chan didn’t dare make eye contact with Changbin.

“Chan,” Changbin started carefully. “I’m not much into BDSM or whatever, but I do know you’re supposed to take care of your sub afterwards. Why isn’t Seungmin giving you that care?” 

Chan flinched. “We decided earlier on that I would do all of the first aid, because I was better at it,” he argued weakly. Seungmin had said that’s how he always did it, and Chan had deferred to his superior experience, in spite of his misgivings. Seungmin got mad and called him a shitty sub when he talked back too much.

“So why didn’t he take over when you clearly couldn’t?” Changbin demanded, pitching higher as he got more worked up.

“He was probably busy,” Chan snapped defensively. Seungmin was messy, but he was his dom, and Changbin was too vanilla to get that.

Changbin deflated unhappily, and Chan felt his heart squeeze at the sight. “Chan, I just want the best for you. I don’t think Seungmin is that. Can’t you find someone who respects you and your body more?”

Chan let his body flop back into the bed. The rage faded out of him just as fast as it had washed in. He wasn’t stupid: Seungmin didn’t particularly  _ like _ him and clearly just saw him as a way to blow off steam. It didn’t make Chan feel particularly good, obviously. When he thought about it for longer than the two seconds it took his pathetic dick to get hard, he knew Seungmin was bad for him. He just couldn’t maintain that resolve in the face of Seungmin’s assertiveness. “Okay,” he said finally, muffled by the pillow. “I’ll break up with him the next time he calls me.”

Changbin didn’t sound reassured when he spoke. “You said that last time,” he said flatly. “Why can’t you just text him now and block him?” He stood up and removed the ice pack, shuffling around near the nightstand. 

“I can’t just do that!” Chan defended himself. “I’m not ready!”

Changbin just sighed defeatedly and aggressively squeezed the tube of Neosporin, too much of it coming out with a wet squelch. It gave Chan flashbacks to last night, and his disgusting dick twitched at the sound. He couldn’t believe he was so pathetic as to get hard over any liquid sound now, and even worse, it was making him genuinely reconsider breaking up with Seungmin. His ass burned in a bad way now, sure, but it felt nice before then!

Changbin’s touch was gentle, using barely-there touches to spread the gel over the abrasions. “Brace yourself,” Changbin warned him, using his fingertips to lightly rub the cream in. Each push stung, despite Changbin trying to be gentle, and Chan bit his pillow to resist the urge to whimper. He steeled his resolve. Seungmin had ignored his safeword. No matter how good the sex was, it wasn’t worth the flagrant violation of Chan’s only boundary left, after Seungmin had worn the rest down with his pushiness. Each flare of pain from Changbin’s touch as he began applying the arnica cream to his inflamed skin strengthened his determination. 

“You should eat something,” Changbin advised, to break the silence. “And probably a painkiller too. I forgot to bring aspirin up with me, I’m sorry. Do you think you can stand?”

Chan assessed himself, delicately shifting his limbs to test how functional he was. It still hurt, obviously, but the ice had at least numbed his skin enough that he thought he could get to the kitchen with Changbin’s support. “I can try,” he said hesitantly. 

Changbin wordlessly offered his arm. Chan squeezed his thick forearm as he leaned heavily on his friend. His ass  _ hurt _ . He would feel guilty about using Changbin’s arm like a stress ball, but he was too stressed to think about much else. “I don’t think this is working,” Chan growled through gritted teeth. “Am I going to eat standing up?”

Changbin let him flop back on to the bed, a worried frown creasing his face. “I’ll get Jisung,” he sighed. “And I’ll bring the aspirin this time.”

Chan couldn’t even stare at the ceiling in despair, since he was stuck on his stomach. Face planting into his bed was losing its appeal when it was all he could  _ do _ . Changbin had reacted okay, but there was no telling what Jisung would do, with all his uncontrollable snark. 

Their arrival was heralded, blessedly, with a new cup of warm honey water and an aspirin. Chan swallowed it immediately, impatiently waiting for the pain to go down to a manageable and functional level. “Here, pig,” Jisung snorted, shoving a bowl towards him. It was loaded with his leftover rice and kimchi, with a freshly fried egg topping it off. Chan lit up. His stomach chose that time to rumble, helpfully reminding him of how starved he was. He hadn’t eaten in like half a day. He barely even paid attention to whether he was spilling it into his bed or not. All too suddenly, the bowl was empty, and he made a forlorn sound. 

Jisung cackled, taking the bowl away. “Slow down,” he chastised. “There’s more, but we figured we should wait till the aspirin sets in and you can eat in the kitchen, instead of getting rice all over the bed.”

Chan just grumbled. Changbin helpfully passed the ice pack back, freshly refilled, and he let his eyes slide closed. “I’ll get you some more water,” he said, grabbing the emptied bowl. Then, it was just him and Jisung.

“You know we’ll always be here for you, right?” Jisung’s voice was painfully earnest, and Chan’s heart caught in his throat. He just kept his eyes closed and pretended to sleep. He felt immensely stupid doing so, and it was probably pretty obvious, but Jisung didn’t call him out, thankfully. He just sighed sadly. “I just wish you knew you deserved better.” 

Jisung shut the door quietly on the way out, and Chan let his eyes open, staring blankly at the wall. That was the thing, wasn’t it? He laughed bitterly. He did deserve it. If he and Seungmin weren’t meant for each other, then why was he so weak for Seungmin?

* * *

The week passed uneventfully. Seungmin didn’t bother texting him. Chan opened up their message history multiple times, staring at the read receipt. The keyboard and blinking cursor mocked his inability to just send the goddamn message. Why was it so hard to just tell Seungmin it was over? Chan sighed and closed the app again. Jisung didn’t want to bother him, but the question was clear on his eyes every time they spoke. Changbin wasn’t so tactful, and regularly asked if Seungmin was out of the picture yet. Each and every time was a disappointment. It was appropriate, Chan thought wryly. He was nothing more than a waste of space. It was only natural he would disappoint his friends, as well as his lover.

His phone vibrating in his hands startled him, and Chan nearly dropped the phone when he saw the name. His heart hammered in his chest. Fuck, he wasn’t ready for this. He couldn’t get up the nerve to text Seungmin, much less speak to him right now! Still, it was better to get this done now when it had been forced on him than wait for Chan to talk himself out of it again. He took a deep breath and pressed answer, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hey!” Seungmin sounded cheerful. “Are you free? My roommate’s out of town, and I thought of a new scene for us to try. I was thinking body worship, and if you satisfy me, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want.” His voice was honeyed and coaxing, but still so self-assured. There was no doubt in Seungmin’s mind that Chan would say yes. He was like a freight train. Chan thought he was ready to move on from Seungmin, but a simple casual phone call had him falling apart. Surely, he rationalized, it wouldn’t be so bad this time? At worst Seungmin would just edge him, and it wasn’t like he’d been jerking off much recently. At best, he’d have Seungmin’s full attention and affection, and all the touch he could ever dream of. Chan would tell him after, he decided. It wouldn’t be that bad to get in one last session, before Chan went back to being sad and pathetically lonely. 

“Okay,” Chan answered weakly. “I can come over tonight at 7?” 

“Great! I’ll see you then.” The line went dead, and Chan pulled the phone away to look down at the black screen. He laughed dryly. Not even a 30 second long call, and he was already crawling back to Seungmin after a week of agonizing over him. He was so fucking pitiful. Chan dropped the phone on the bedsheets and flopped over, groaning at his bedroom ceiling. 

* * *

Seungmin even greeted him at the door when he rang, smiling happily, instead of texting him to just come in and meet him in the bedroom. Maybe something good happened recently. Chan had learned not to question the small blessings and just accept them. “Wait here on your knees and count to 300. And no cheating! Then follow the trail on your hands and knees. Got it?” He sounded excited, in a way Seungmin never did. Even on the night a week ago where he’d spanked Chan’s ass raw, he felt like he was scheming something. Today, he just seemed happy to see him. Chan almost couldn’t believe it. He nodded eagerly, dropping to his knees immediately, right there in the foyer. His heart warmed at Seungmin’s delighted smile. Seungmin gave him a fond head pat and skipped off, calling, “Remember, no cheating!”

Chan never tried to cheat Seungmin’s orders, but today he was filled with the resolve to be perfectly obedient. He would show Seungmin that he could make the both of them happy together. 

29… 30… 31… The seconds ticked by with both agonizing slowness and a serene sureness. Time almost felt like molasses, leaking through his foggy brain, but it trekked on nonetheless, and he shook himself awake when he reached 300. 5 minutes. What was Seungmin preparing? His legs protested slightly at the movement, but he ignored the discomfort and crawled forward. In the hallway, a clear trail of rose petals laid there. Chan couldn’t remember the last time Seungmin had pulled out this many stops for him. 

When he carefully nudged the door open, Chan’s jaw dropped. Never in a million years had he expected Seungmin to dress up for him like this. He laid in the bed, washed in the low candlelight, his long legs encased in delicate, high-waisted fishnet stockings, peeking over the waistband of his obscenely tight booty shorts. Each movement flashed more of his cheek, and Chan felt his mouth water, even before his eyes drifted up towards the lacy, transparent mesh crop top framing his chest. 

Seungmin laughed, pure as a wind chime. “Like what you see?” he teased, beckoning Chan closer. 

Chan nodded mindlessly, crawling closer. “I’m glad,” Seungmin sighed softly. “I put a lot of effort into this, y’know?” His smile turned sly. “You should show me how much you appreciate me.” He spread his legs invitingly, laughing at the way Chan’s eyes instantly focused on his ass.

Chan just whimpered, diving forward. He nuzzled at the exposed strip on Seungmin’s stomach, admiring the way his muscles flexed beneath the skin. Beneath his lips, Seungmin’s skin was soft and hairless. Chan mourned Seungmin’s treasure trail, pressing delicate kisses to where it would have been. He let his hands roam up higher, basking in the firm warmth under his palms. He didn’t get to touch Seungmin often, so Chan savored it when he did. 

Seungmin shivered lightly under his touch, and Chan leaned up higher, pushing the mesh top away to press his wet mouth to Seungmin’s chest, moaning quietly when Seungmin pushed his fingers into Chan’s hair. “Good boy,” he said breathily, only holding on to his hair for now. Seungmin was pretty flat, but he was sensitive, and Chan took delight in the stifled whine he elicited with his kneading. He let his thumb brush over Seungmin’s nipple, entranced by the way it stiffened immediately. Seungmin’s grip on his hair tightened, and Chan gasped, shocks of pleasure blooming behind his eyes at the pressure. 

“Keep going,” Seungmin encouraged, his voice taking on a low growling quality. Chan leaned in, licking a broad stripe over the nipple. The response was instantaneous: Seungmin twitched and audibly gasped, and Chan chased the high, tongue laving over the bud. With his other hand he massaged Seungmin’s abandoned pec, lightly squeezing the nipple and rubbing his calloused thumb over the sensitive ends. Seungmin squirmed underneath him, quiet moans dripping out, and Chan preened under the attention. He switched sides, his warm, wet tongue soothing the pinched nipple, before playfully nipping at it.

Seungmin swatted him lightly. “Okay puppy, calm down,” he chastised. “Why don’t we keep your mouth occupied in another way?” His eyes twinkled, and Chan nodded so fast Seungmin laughed patronizingly at him. “You’re drooling,” he said, delighted. Chan flushed, ducking his head to hide, bringing his hand up to wipe it off. 

“Oh, it’s cute,” Seungmin sighed, gently pushing him down. Chan settled in the v between Seungmin’s legs, admiring the gentle swell of his ass. It was perfect for Chan, and he absolutely loved playing with it, or even just giving Seungmin a cheeky slap whenever he walked by. 

Reverently, Chan lifted up his thigh, watching his fingers leave little indents in the skin. He kissed the spot, dragging his teeth over the skin to feel Seungmin jump. Just like his ass, Seungmin’s thighs were just squishy and lean enough for Chan to lose himself in, tonguing over the bites and hickeys he left behind. 

Seungmin tightened his grip in Chan’s hair warningly. “Don’t get lost now, puppy,” he reminded Chan. Chan whined contritely, reaching up to pull the shorts down. It was difficult, with how tightly they were plastered to Seungmin’s body, but it smoothed out once his cock popped out. Seungmin was achingly hard, precum beading up in the tip already. On instinct, Chan leaned forward, licking the head clean. Seungmin tasted inoffensive through the musk, like he’d been drinking something sweet. Chan wanted more, and he sank his mouth down farther, swirling his tongue around the head. 

Seungmin gripped his head in both hands, tugging on the strands as he rolled his hips up luxuriously. “Good puppy,” he moaned, his face lit up with pleasure. Chan’s cock twitched at that, heat pooling in his gut. He tried to push down farther, whimpering when he gagged. He pulled back barely, just enough to breathe and try again, determined to take Seungmin’s cock into his throat. 

“Want some help, puppy?” Seungmin was breathless, but he sounded awed. He was... impressed by Chan? Fireworks exploded, and Chan felt his dick leak intensely. He whined pathetically, fingers tightening around Seungmin’s hips. 

“Please,” he mumbled, heavily muffled around Seungmin’s cock. He just laughed fondly, cradling Chan’s skull in his hands as he rocked his hips up, gently pushing his cock into his throat. Chan strained to relax. He wanted nothing more than to be good for Seungmin, and that meant swallowing his cock down without choking. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Seungmin’s cock stretching out his throat. It ached a little bit, but Seungmin never pushed in all the way, so he was able to keep his throat relaxed, pressing his tongue to the underside of Seungmin’s frenulum to make him moan. 

Chan blinked his eyes open, startled, when Seungmin pulled out. “Stay with me,” he coaxed, smiling down at Chan’s hazy eyes. “You don’t want to miss the main course, do you?” He winked exaggeratedly at the horrible innuendo, and Chan groaned. Even so, his dick was throbbing with the idea of eating Seungmin out, and he pawed weakly at Seungmin. He just laughed at him, patting Chan on the head as he rolled over, pushing the shorts down and off as he did so. He spread his legs, looking back at Chan sultrily. 

Chan wasn’t one to disappoint: he dived in, squeezing Seungmin’s cheeks in his hands appreciatively. He didn’t want to spend too long on them, so he pressed a kiss to each cheek and settled in, pulling them apart to expose Seungmin’s hole. He let the spit build up in his mouth and started sloppily licking around his hole, getting the entire area wet. Seungmin tasted clean and fresh, clearly washed, and he let his tongue push in deeper. Chan massaged lightly at his perineum with his thumb as he worked his tongue in, gentle strokes in and out. Seungmin clenched around his tongue, panting. Chan pulled out, flicking his tongue lightly over the surrounding area to give him a break. He blew lightly over his hole, smiling when Seungmin shivered. He pushed his tongue back in, basking in Seungmin’s whines. He pulled out, letting his teeth scrape very delicately over the furl. 

Seungmin was sweating in the low light, and he reached down to fist his leaking dick, mouth open and slack from the pleasure. Spurred on, Chan leaned in, licking a broad stripe up his perineum and over his hole, following up with little kitten licks. He reached up to rub lightly at Seungmin’s balls, feeling the way they contracted as he got closer.

“Fuck,” Seungmin panted, his hips rocking lightly in Chan’s grasp. He closed his eyes, pushing in deeper as he felt Seungmin get needier, reedy whines escaping him now. “I’m close,” Seungmin breathed, his thighs tensing. Chan doubled his efforts, luxuriating in Seungmin’s low groan as he came, cum spilling over the fishnets on his thighs and the bedsheets in equal numbers. 

Seungmin collapsed, breathing hard. “God,” he wheezed. “Good boy.” He ruffled at Chan’s hair while he smiled helplessly. God, he was so pathetic. A little praise and he could feel his heart lurching, already purring fondly under Seungmin’s touch. His dick still throbbed, hard and leaking, but he could ignore it, floating in the utter joy of finally satisfying Seungmin. 

“Clean me up, okay? And then we can go to sleep.” Chan nodded happily, his ears catching on to the  _ us _ and nothing else. His needs came secondary, and he was all too happy to take responsibility for the mess he’d created. He ran his tongue over Seungmin’s thighs, collecting all the splattered cum. It wasn’t the most pleasant taste, but Seungmin ate well enough, and it was more about the warm satisfaction of pleasing him. The bedsheets were slightly tacky beneath his tongue, but he swallowed the cum dutifully, letting his tongue hang out to show it was all clean.

“I’m so proud of you puppy,” Seungmin said happily, having stripped off the lingerie and the dirtied bedsheets. He left them a heap on the desk and snuggled up to Chan, pressing his nose against his neck. “I’m tired now, let’s sleep.” 

Chan nodded serenely, tucking up into Seungmin’s hug. He was on cloud nine, and nothing could bring him down, not even Seungmin’s broken promise that satisfying him would lead to an orgasm. For the first time in months, in the warm embrace of his lover, Chan slept peacefully.

* * *

Chan usually woke up early, regardless of when he slept. Any grogginess vanished the instant he stirred and realized he was still clinging to Seungmin. Seungmin was still asleep, and most importantly, he was  _ still in bed with Chan _ . He debated just going back to sleep, and the call of the warm blankets and Seungmin’s cozy embrace pulled strongly at him, but in the end, Chan decided he wanted to do something good for Seungmin, after he’d enjoyed last night so much. He delicately extricated himself from the blankets, tucking them back around Seungmin. He made an adorable snuffling sound and burrowed deeper, and Chan stood there, motionless, feeling something flutter in his stomach at the sight. 

Seungmin rolled over, pulling the blankets in even tighter, startling Chan out of his reverie. He closed the door gently, heading back to the foyer where his clothes lay in a heap. They were still pretty clean, having only been worn on the trip over, basically, so he put them on and headed into the kitchen. 

Chan opened Seungmin’s refrigerator, relieved to see it was stocked with an assortment of fresh fruits, vegetables, and carbohydrates. After Jisung’s fridge, he wasn’t sure he was prepared for anything worse. Maybe Seungmin’s roommate cooked. He couldn’t think of a time he’d seen Seungmin cooking, but he let Chan take whatever he wanted out, so maybe it was his.

It felt like a lazy morning, so Chan quickly settled on simply making eggs and toast. He set out the eggs, a head of cabbage, cheese, ham, bread, and after some further digging, green onions and butter. He started the coffee machine as he worked. Chan didn’t consider himself an excellent chef, or even a hobbyist, but it was a simple enough recipe, and it didn’t take much focus. The sizzle of the pan and the quiet hiss of the coffee machine was the only disturbance in the otherwise serene atmosphere, and Chan fell into a quiet zen as he worked, chopping up the vegetables and mixing them into the egg omelette. He slid the omelette off the pan and set the ham down to cook.

Maybe he could clean up the rose petals after? But the ham and bread would burn before he could finish, and leaving the toast out in the cold to get soggy seemed like a bad idea. In the end, Chan concluded that there wouldn’t be time to clean up, so he plated the egg toast sandwiches and set them on the table.

As Chan approached Seungmin’s bedroom, the sound of running water greeted him. “I made breakfast!” he called. 

“I’ll bet out in a minute!” he yelled, sounding distracted. Now that Chan was closer, he could hear his quiet chatter. Maybe someone had called? Chan retreated back to the kitchen, pouring out coffee for the two of them. He honestly didn’t know how Seungmin took his coffee (he refused to think about how this made his stomach drop), so he simply left the creamer and sugar out next to Seungmin’s plate and cup and sat down at his, lightly blowing on his own coffee to cool it down.

True to his word, Seungmin arrived very quickly, all sunny and fresh-faced. “Looks good,” he commented, sitting down. He added enough creamer and sugar to turn the coffee a pale brown, to Chan’s muted horror. Once he’d stirred the abomination to his satisfaction, he started scrolling through his phone, chewing on his bite.

“What are you doing?” Chan asked inquisitively. 

“Nothing much,” Seungmin dismissed him. He continued scrolling, his eyes fixed on the screen. He barely paid attention to the food, mechanically chewing and swallowing each bite, washing it down with the coffee. If Chan watched him carefully, he could note a cycle: two bites, then a swallow of coffee. He frowned, staring down at his own sandwich. Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry. The food he’d already swallowed sat like a stone in his stomach.

“Are you reading something?” Chan ventured to ask.. He thought he saw a flash of a familiar name when he put the phone down to pop the last piece of the sandwich into his mouth, and it made something ugly flare up in Chan’s chest. Was he really not good enough for Seungmin, even on a good night? Was his love so disposable? His eyes felt hot, but nothing came out.

“Nah,” Seungmin said, standing up. “I’m gonna head over to Hyunjin’s house, okay? You can stay until you finish your breakfast or whatever. Just lock the door behind you.” With that, he swept out, leaving Chan at the breakfast table in Seungmin’s apartment, painfully alone again, his egg toast sandwich becoming soggier and colder by the second. 

* * *

Chan drifted through the next week like a ghost, much to Changbin and Jisung’s concern. Why did he try so hard for Seungmin if he would only throw him away the next day? He didn’t know why he gave in when Seungmin had called. He should have listened to his friends, who had supported him more than Seungmin ever had. He laid in bed, his sad playlist pumping out of the speakers. Could he get any more pathetic? Chan was almost certain the playlist was titled “sad boi hours.”

He almost didn’t bother checking the text message lighting his phone up, but the notification sound interrupted his music, so he sighed heavily and opened his phone.

Seungmin: Let me take u to dinner to make up for leaving so early last week

4:48 PM

Chan scowled. Oh, now he was apologetic? Would have been nice to hear sooner, he thought sourly.

Fuck off

4:49 PM

Seungmin: Look I’ll pay okay? Whatever you want. I’ll pick you up at 5:15?

4:49 PM

Chan hesitated, thumb held over the sleep button. He really should tell Seungmin to eat shit and block him, but something told him to at least hear him out. It wasn’t fair to push Seungmin away when he was really trying, and a Seungmin that tried made Chan the happiest he’d ever been. He sighed, opening his phone again.

Fine

4:55 PM

Seungmin: Great! Omw

4:56 PM

Chan stared at his closet, listlessly picking out a black button-up and some form-fitting slacks. It wasn’t a very creative outfit, but it would actually be appropriate for a restaurant rather than the ratty gym clothes he was currently wearing. His reflection in the mirror was ghost pale. He looked like a hermit vampire, frankly. 

Seungmin: Here

5:13 PM

Chan swore. When had 15 minutes escaped by so fast? He dashed downstairs, grabbing his wallet and keys as he rushed outside, only a minute after Seungmin’s text. He opened the passenger door, frowning down at the mess in the seat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Seungmin groaned, shifting the mess haphazardly into the backseat. “I was running errands earlier.”

Chan ducked into the seat, buckling his seatbelt in as Seungmin scrolled through his playlist. The song he chose sounded like another 80s rip off, and Chan tuned it out completely, letting his head loll onto the window.

“Where do you want to go?” Seungmin asked.

Chan waved him off. “Wherever you want.” 

Seungmin shrugged, taking out his phone. He typed something, the screen subtly angled away from Chan. “Okay then, Italian sound good?”

“Sure.” Until Seungmin started explaining, he wasn’t interested. 

The wobbling synths in the music provided the perfect background to zone the fuck out, amidst the silence between them. Chan closed his eyes, feeling the car sway beneath him. When he opened his eyes again, they were in front of a nondescript corner restaurant. “Hyunjin says the reviews are great,” Seungmin said, offering his hand to help Chan out of the car.

Chan eyed his hand warily, choosing to push himself up and walk towards the restaurant. Seungmin side eyed him, but didn’t say anything, pushing the door open. The line in front of the hostess was more crowded than he thought it would be, but Seungmin just pushed past the line and announced, “reservation for four under Kim Seungmin?” 

Chan’s eyes widened. “Four?” He spun around to glare at Seungmin. What the fuck? Did he ever  _ think _ to ask Chan before springing this shit on him? 

Seungmin ignored him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along as he followed the waiter.

Chan growled and tried to twist his wrist out of Seungmin’s grasp, but the bone-bruising squeeze that followed shocked him quiet. His glare was cold and very clear: don’t embarrass them publicly. 

Chan had half a mind to just turn around, right here and now, and just fucking leave. The only thing holding him back was the fact that he had no car and he didn’t know where the fuck they were. He cursed himself for zoning out on the car trip instead of at least asking for the address. 

The waiter led them to a table where two people already sat, and when Chan’s eyes landed on them, he felt his stomach plummet further. “Minho?” he asked, disbelieving. “What are you doing here?”

Minho turned to face the two of them, eyes widening. “Chan! I didn’t realize you were Seungmin’s friend he was bringing,” he commented.  _ Seungmin’s friend? _ Weren’t they partners? But more than that, where the fuck did Minho know Seungmin from, where they were arranging dinners without Chan knowing? Something uneasy rolled in Chan’s stomach as he sat down next to Seungmin.

“I invited Minho and Hyunjin because I’ve been neglecting them too. I wanted to make it up to all of you,” Seungmin announced solemnly. “And that means dinner’s on me tonight!” He grinned, clearly proud of himself. It was obvious Seungmin thought that it was legitimately a good apology, and he clearly expected their forgiveness. 

And really, with the way Minho and Hyunjin both immediately accepted it, laughing and raising their glasses of water in a mock cheer, why shouldn’t he? Chan could only watch, numb, as Seungmin smiled widely, passing the menu around to great fanfare. He paged through the menu, pointing at the spaghetti. Inoffensive enough not to turn his stomach, he thought nauseously. 

Chan didn’t hear what Hyunjin and Minho ordered, or what Seungmin was talking to the waiter about. Whatever it was, it made him laugh, hiding his mouth behind his hand delicately. Was it just him, or was Seungmin leaning in too close for normal ordering procedures? And that smirk. He was definitely flirting! Chan gritted his teeth, feeling lonelier than ever, in the middle of a busy restaurant.

“So, what have you been up to recently?” Seungmin asked, his eyes sparkling. “Me, my thesis is almost done, and ahead of schedule!” He glowed with pride and a self-surety, and it had everyone at the table in his thrall, including Chan’s wounded ego. Of course Seungmin would flirt with others. He was too good for Chan, with his perfect brains and his confidence. It was only natural that he sought out others to accommodate for Chan’s shortcomings. He should just be grateful that Seungmin was still trying with him, right? And the fact that Chan felt sick to his stomach, something hot prickling at his eyes as his clammy fingers squeezed the tablecloth just meant that he loved Seungmin more. Love is pain, he reminded himself.

“Wow!” Hyunjin gushed, leaning in closer towards Seungmin. “I’ve just been dancing, as usual.” He twirled a loose strand of his beautiful long hair, staring at Seungmin in obvious interest. “Do you want to see my new choreography tomorrow? I can  _ personally _ show you.” He purred the word, and Chan related on a fundamentally raw level. It grated painfully. How could he hope to compete with Hyunjin, a beautiful, tall, fit dancer? He was just some lame producer with too much emotional baggage. It made sense that he would pursue Seungmin. They were meant for each other.

What surprised Chan more was Minho’s mirroring interest. Minho regularly listened to him talk about Seungmin. He had to know what Seungmin meant to Chan. So why would he refer to Chan as just his friend? And when Minho jumped in with Hyunjin, agreeing - “Yeah, we could show you our duet!” - Chan reeled back, as if he’d been punched. Minho and him weren’t best friends, but they’d been friends since 8th grade, and the betrayal dug deep. He wanted to throw up.

“Chan?” Seungmin’s voice broke through his reverie, soft and concerned. “Are you alright?”

Chan swallowed. His hands were sweating. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I’m fine.”

Seungmin pursed his lips. “You don’t look very good,” he worried. “You’re kind of pale. Here, drink some.” He reached across the table, flagging down the waiter, who left a freshly uncorked bottle in the middle of the table. “We should all drink to something,” he decided, pouring a full glass into everyone’s glasses. “Like, success? For my thesis and your choreography.” 

Hyunjin and Minho chimed in with a chorus of agreement, raising their glasses. 

“Chan?” Seungmin asked, lifting his glass.

Chan swallowed, grabbing the stem in his clammy hands. “To success,” he said weakly, downing the wine in one gulp. Honestly, maybe getting smashed off of overpriced wine wasn’t a bad idea, especially if Seungmin was paying. It would make watching Hyunjin and Minho simper over his boyfriend more tolerable. He reached for the bottle to refill his glass.

“Woah!” Hyunjin giggled. “Slow down!”

Chan ignored him, slamming the second glass too fast. It almost made him choke, but he swallowed it all down.  _ Practiced _ , Seungmin’s voice teased him inside his head. It made his ears burn, and when he resurfaced, Minho was staring at him worriedly. Chan waved him off, thankful when the waiter arrived with their dishes. It distracted him from Minho’s mixed signals. Was he interested in Seungmin or not? Did he even care what he was doing to Chan?

Chan looked down at the dish placed in front of him. Was he meant to eat his fill off of  _ salad _ ? “Excuse me,” he began. “I think you gave me the wrong dish. I ordered spaghetti.” 

The waiter frowned, scanning his notepad. “Apologies sir, but the gentleman over there did not order any spaghetti.” Hyunjin, Minho, and Seungmin all looked pretty satisfied with their dishes, and there was nothing else on the waiter’s platter.

Chan felt like he’d been gut punched. Was this all just an elaborate prank? Even for Seungmin, it was inordinately cruel. His ears burned, and he was absolutely positive everyone in the restaurant could see his embarrassment and were laughing at his suffering. He resolved not to say something. He didn’t want to draw even more attention to himself. Especially not Seungmin’s ire.

Chan picked mournfully at the pathetic salad. The vegetables were fresh, but there wasn’t a single piece of meat, or even a substantive carbohydrate. He finished quickly, feeling as if he hadn’t even eaten anything. The others had ordered profuse amounts of food, the table covered in steak, pastas, and even a small pizza. Chan reached for the breadsticks, resigning himself to going hungry. He drained the wine glass, reaching for another refill. 

By now, he was most certainly doing his level best to reach drunk, but the others were tipsy as well. Hyunjin’s laugh was unfiltered, ugly and grating. “What are you trying to forget?” he asked, innocently, but the implication was barbed, and it caught on Chan’s throat like a fishhook. 

Seungmin cackled, and the sound made Chan’s heart crack. “He’s so cute, isn’t he?” He cooed condescendingly. “My good little pet.”

Hyunjin tittered, delighted. “Oh, tell me more!” 

Minho met his eye, something almost like concern on his face, and Chan immediately broke eye contact. He couldn’t bear seeing the judgment on his childhood friend’s face as Seungmin and Hyunjin kept going. He stared down at his hands, clenched in his slacks. The salad had been incredibly light, but he thought he would choke on it anyway, something thick clogging up his throat. 

“God,” Seungmin sighed wistfully as he sipped at his wine. “He’s so whipped, I love it. I call him and he comes. Even when I’m busy, he’ll sit there and warm my cock. Like, he does realize nobody’s actually into that, right? But he just does whatever I want. I love it.” 

Hyunjin gasped. “You’re sooo lucky,” he gushed. “I’ve been looking for someone like that for ages, but it’s all old sugar daddies,” he sighed mournfully. 

Seungmin laughed. “Those work. You’d just have to train them, and you’re a lazy shit, aren’t you?” 

Hyunjin giggled, hiding his mouth behind his hand, all falsely demure. 

Minho’s silence was deafening. He wasn’t contributing, but he also wasn’t saying anything in defense of Chan, and the heat in his eyes was threatening to coalesce into proper tears. It was only Chan’s burning willpower not to cry in front of Seungmin and his sadistic friend that held them back. 

The conversation moved on after that, and Chan didn’t bother listening. He only knew that Minho had tentatively joined back in, and only Hyunjin’s ugly laughter pierced through the fog in his brain as he kept draining his wine glass. When it stopped, Chan looked up, startled to see Seungmin and Hyunjin getting up.

“I’m going home with Seungmin, okay? Do you have a ride?” Chan blinked at Minho, uncomprehending. Going… home? With Seungmin? Chan nodded blankly.

Minho frowned, his eyebrows creasing with worry. He looked hesitant to leave, and he patted Chan on the shoulder awkwardly as he pushed in his chair and disappeared towards the front. 

Chan sat there, waiting for Seungmin to return. He tapped at the wine glass anxiously. Why was it taking him so long? It didn’t take this long to pay, did it?

“Excuse me?” The waiter’s voice cut through the fog, and Chan blinked up at him, disoriented. “Are you paying?”

The simple question sent ice straight through his heart. “P-pay?” he stuttered, like an idiot.

The waiter narrowed his eyes. “Your friends all left together. The gentleman who ordered said you offered to pay.”

Chan couldn’t breathe. Seungmin… left? His legs were cold and numb. He honestly didn’t think he could muster up the strength to reach for his wallet, and he knew with a dreadful certainty what he would find: not enough money. Just from eyeballing their orders, the other three had racked up a bill of over $100, and Chan didn’t carry that much. His vision swam, and he panicked, gasping. He couldn’t fucking breathe. His chest hurt, and it sounded like he was underwater. 

“Hey!” The waiter’s voice broke through, and Chan gasped raggedly. “Breathe with me,” he urged. Chan’s shaky hand was on his chest and he struggled to match the slow, even breaths. “That’s it,” he soothed. 

Silent tears streamed down Chan’s face. He reached for his phone, relieved to feel it hadn’t fallen out of his pocket. He scrolled through the contact list, cringing when he passed by Minho and Seungmin’s names. Jisung and Changbin had said they were busy, and that just left Jeongin. He pressed the call button, staring uncomprehendingly at the tile floor of the bathroom as it rang. 

“Hello?” Chan sobbed at the sound of Jeongin’s voice, so concerned and warm. It was like a balm on his jagged edges. “Chan?” He sounded worried now. “What’s wrong?”

“C-can you pick me up?” he hiccuped. “And… bring money? I’ll pay you back.” That was honestly debatable. Chan didn’t know if he could afford to foot the bill on a moderately fancy restaurant for four orders, but he didn’t want to think about it. It would make him panic again. 

“Of course. Send me the address.” Chan could have broken down crying all over again over Jeongin’s easy answer.

“Okay,” he sniffled, ending the call. He was just grateful the waiter had left, evidently needing to go back to working. Chan was alone, unable to debase himself further in front of respectable society. 

* * *

Jeongin’s worried face reminded Chan a little bit of Minho’s, in the concerned crease, but where Minho’s radiated guilt, Jeongin’s was simply pure. Chan felt he actually cared, while Minho had simply wanted to alleviate his own troublesome feelings. “What happened?” he asked tentatively.

Chan remained silent, infinitely grateful for the way Jeongin had paid off the bill with no questions and let him stew in the passenger seat.

Jeongin didn’t press it, only sending worried glances his way every now and then while Chan shivered in his car, his eyes puffy and swollen.

Chan laughed bitterly. “I’m such a fucking mess,” he said lowly. “I can’t believe I really thought I deserved Seungmin’s attention.” He stared down at his hands. “Like, I can’t even be assed to put on something nice. My fashion sense is horrible,” he quipped, thinking about all the times Seungmin had said it. “I don’t have a fucking spine, and all my friends think I’m boring. And I’m ugly as shit. Really, how is it anyone’s fault other than mine that Seungmin needed to find other people to satisfy him? I’m just a pathetic virgin-” His voice caught on a sob.

“Stop!” Jeongin burst out, slamming the car to a stop. Chan instinctively opened his mouth to tell him off for the unsafe driving, but Jeongin pulled over and looked close to crying. It sent a wave of guilt through him. Why would he dump that on Jeongin, of all people? The kid he’d practically raised in the face of absent parents? Jeongin didn’t deserve to deal with his baggage, and it was so unbelievably selfish of him to expect Jeongin to take this on. 

“I’m sorry,” Chan rasped, reaching to open the door. “I’m burdening you too much. I’ll find my way back home on my own, and I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“No!!” Jeongin shrieked, practically lunging across the gear stick to face Chan, grabbing at his wrist before he could open the door and escape. “You don’t understand!” A tear spilled down his cheek, and Chan reached up to wipe it away.

“Please don’t cry for me,” he said weakly. “I’m not worth it.”

Jeongin just swatted his hand away, breathing deeply. He grabbed Chan’s face in his hands. “You don’t understand,” he repeated. “You’re  _ none of those things _ . Do you hear me?” His tone was filled with an urgency that Chan didn’t understand, and he shook his head immediately. 

“ _ No _ .” Jeongin cut him off immediately. “It’s true. You try your hardest for the people you love, no matter the result. You do these things because you  _ care _ for people, and because you’re a good man. You’re a kind man, who does his best to help everyone just because he wants to make people happier. You’re a smart man who finds ways to adapt and overcome his problems. When you’re protecting your friends, you are the bravest man I know. It was  _ you _ I looked up to and tried to emulate. It was  _ you _ who Changbin and Jisung relied on at their lowest points. You are a beautiful, gentle human. Seungmin is just full of shit and doesn’t deserve you.” Jeongin’s tone went acidic, and he actually growled out of anger.

Chan opened his mouth to instinctively defend Seungmin, but Jeongin cut him off again. “It’s okay to be weak. It’s only human.” He reached forward to hold Chan’s hands in his own. “Please, Chan. Please listen to me when I say you are worth more than Seungmin and his rat friends.” Jeongin’s eyes shone with passion and tears alike, and Chan swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“O-okay,” he agreed, dazed.

Jeongin deflated at that response, and he just looked exhausted. “I’m glad,” he whispered, settling back into his seat. “Can I stay over?” he asked. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Chan sniffled. “You’re always welcome at my house,” he said wetly. 

That made Jeongin smile, and the radiance soothed Chan’s ragged breathing a little bit. 

The rest of the ride home was quiet, low ambient music staving off the oppressive silence. “Let’s go,” Jeongin murmured, leading him up the steps to his door. “I’ll take care of you.”

Chan was silent as Jeongin helped him take off his shoes and wash his face. His face flamed when Jeongin stepped into the shower behind him, clad in only his boxers. He spluttered, trying to ignore the way the wet fabric clung to his thighs and groin. Jeongin was steadfast, efficiently rubbing the shampoo into his hair. The rhythmic massage soothed his frayed nerves, and he felt his heart slow for the first time that night. Jeongin helped him towel off with the same serenity, and the next thing Chan knew, he was lying in bed again, and the exhaustion hit him full force.

“Sleep,” Jeongin whispered, lightly stroking his hair. “I’ll always be here when you wake.” Oddly soothed by this statement, Chan fell into a dreamless sleep. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might write that sequel fic, where Chan heals with Jeongin’’s support and they have fluffy, happy times, but I have a PWP for another fandom lined up first, and I write slow lmao, so don’t expect anything soon.


End file.
